


Days Like This

by ninetailsNight



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide, old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:03:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1848862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninetailsNight/pseuds/ninetailsNight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somedays, BJ hated his job.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days Like This

**Author's Note:**

> An old ass fic I'm digging up from ff.n. I'm still fond of it.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, man! Why!” The black hooded Tenor Reaper groaned.

“Because we have to Beej. That's why.” His partner, a red hooded Reaper replied, looking down at the mess on the train tracks. Tenho wouldn't deny that it was beyond gross and should have made him barf his lunch. But it was part of the job description for being a lowly field Reaper and a requirement for moving up in ranks.

“I am not going down there.” BJ said, crossing his arms over his chest and turning his head away in disgust. “Besides, why not let the humans clean up?”

“Because we'll lose the Soul if the body's gone and the brass will have our heads.”

“Can't we say the Noise beat us to it?”

“You know the brass ain't that stupid.” Tenho said, hopping down onto the crimson stained steel tracks. “Can't say the same about you though.” He added, proding a severed hand with his shoe. “Makes you wonder why people do this, doesn't it?”

BJ groaned again. It was one of those days he wished he chose reincarnation to being a Reaper.

“Why bother? Whatever's left of that Soul isn't gonna get anywhere near the next life. There probably isn't even enough for Noise food.”

“Just shut up and help me, damnit.”

The Tenor Reaper sighed and jumped onto the railroad, carefully avoiding any parts and scraps that might get squished beneath the soles of his shoes.

“I hate my job.”


End file.
